To crave the touch of someone so close
and yet so far.
Is this what makes me want to claw at my heart?
To stop the beating that thrums so steadily
For one who isn't even ready.
Soft and tender contradictions
so readily fall off your lips.
I continuously mistake life for fiction
And so I find myself like a ship that tips.
My selfish needs outweigh what is right
Filling me with fast delight
And yet suddenly leading me
To where nothing is bright.
Written by Nihal Nashed.
Cover photo by Alwi Alaydrus.